Destiny Unraveled
by HMWarriorsLife10
Summary: After Grima's defeat and a tactician's selfless sacrifice, what awaits Ylisse in its new future now that its old destiny has been unraveled? A series of short chapters on the Shepherds' lives post-endgame. Read & review!
1. Victory

**Author's Note:** Hiya! This is my first FE fanfic. It's a series of...drabbles? Short chapters? They're not really short enough to be called drabbles, but not long enough to be called full-length chapters. Whatever. Anyway, these little chapters are about post-endgame Ylisse-mostly the Chrom X Robin (F) pairing, (pretty obvious from the first chapter) and some other fun ones. I aim to have quite a few chapters for this collection, updated as often as possible (although no guarantees), so read and review and tell me what you think! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of these characters or the dialogue that comes from the game. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfics-I'd be congratulating myself on formulating the Chrom & Frederick C support, which is crazy hilarious.

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**CHAPTER ONE: VICTORY**

Dust swirled in the air as a battered blue-haired man stood atop a great cliff, overlooking a glorious sunrise. His eyes stared, unseeing, past the small groups of panting warriors who struggled up the cliff to meet him, past the blobs of dark creatures that disintegrated into thin air.

He stared at a forlorn pile of tomes on the ground, left without an owner.

Leaning on his glowing sword, he watched the sun climb up to illuminate the dark sky.

"Father." Someone touched the Exalt's arm. He turned to see Lucina, who had her own Falchion in hand. Morgan was on her heels, and stooped over the deserted books in uncharacteristic solemnity. She mirrored her father's pose naturally, and leaned against her sword. "Are...are you alright?"

"I should be asking you that," Chrom replied heavily. He surveyed the landscape before them. Though battle-scarred and weary, every one of their soldiers was alive and breathing, thanks to the work of a brilliant tactician who hadn't had the brilliance to realize they wanted her to save herself.

"I guess we won," Morgan said slowly, clutching his mother's tomes to his chest. "Somehow, it doesn't feel like it…."

"We did," Chrom said, firmly this time as the other Shepherds grouped together around him at the peak. He spoke from a strength he didn't know he had-really, he should be kneeling over on the ground, distraught, by now. "The war is ended, friends. Never again will the fell dragon trouble our world. I owe you all far more than words can ever repay. Especially Robin, who gave her life and saved us all. She secured a peaceful future for Ylisse, and all the worlds to come."

His voice cracked slightly at mentioning the tactician's name, and Lissa, hovering next to him, sniffled. Morgan broke the silence, tentatively. "Father? But didn't Naga say, didn't she say that if our bonds were strong enough…."

Chrom hesitated, then nodded vigorously with false conviction, trying to convince himself most of all. "Yes. Don't cry, Lissa. We'll see her again. This….this isn't over. Robin is out there, somewhere….and I'll find her. Even if it takes the rest of my days, I'll find her…"

The other Shepherds echoed his thoughts. They would find Robin, they all chorused-some way or another, she would come back, or they would _make_ her come back, with all of their prayers (or hexes) she would _have_ to come back….

Chrom let himself be carried away in a swirl of optimism as he led the way, one last time, down the mountain towards Ylisstol.


	2. Celebration

**Author's Note: **I always thought it was funny how Panne likes carrots. The game designers must've had so much fun with this one.

***Disclaimer for this chapter and all of the next* **I don't own any of these characters or their dialogue from the game. What a pity. I'd like to have a legendary sword...or pockets full of candy.

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**CHAPTER TWO: CELEBRATION**

That evening they pitched their tents in a shaded plain a few miles east of Port Ferox. The mess tent was abuzz with triumphant chatter while every pair of hands worked to prepare a celebration feast. When the preparation was over, there was a hearty meal which included an abundance of carrots, and lively talk along with delicious pies for dessert. Wine made a rare appearance at the table that night, as well as one of Morgan's "masterpiece" desserts, which Gaius barely approved without groaning.

The Exalt stood, raised his glass, and led a toast to Grima's final defeat. Lucina and Morgan sat at his left, while Frederick hovered nervously, out of habit, behind. The chair to his right was empty. "To victory!"

"To victory!" the Shepherds echoed in a cheer, their glasses clinking together. "To Ylisse's Exalt!" another voice, likely Frederick's, yelled, and the others took up the cheer. "To Ylisse and the Exalt!"

Chrom gave a brisk nod, forced a smile, and cleared his throat, waiting expectantly for the noise to die down.

"Friends," he said, when the clamor subsided, wincing at the formal language he was compelled to use as the leader of the army. Robin had been much better with proper speech. "We've won a great battle, at the cost of a precious companion."

The gathering sombered.

"Let us not forget the sacrifice that she made to bring peace back to this world." The faces at the tables, some sheltered by tents and some under the starry sunset, crinkled with thought as each remembered their beloved tactician in their own ways.

"And now," Chrom continued, when the brief moment of silence had passed, "Let the celebration continue! The world will forever know peace because of this day!"

Faces brightened, everyone cheered, and the lively talk began again, albeit with a bittersweet tang to the air. Basilio ignored Gaius's discreet warnings and reached for one of Morgan's blackened cookies. Cherche and Panne began a conversation about taguel and wyverns, and Lucina was thanking Gerome earnestly for something while Nowi, aware of Nah's disapproving glances, emphatically begged everyone to play hide-and-seek. Everyone was enjoying the peace they had fought so hard to gain. Everything was just as it should be.

No one noticed when the Exalt slipped out from the crowded tents and left the gathering early.


	3. Wishing

**Author's Note: **Happy Easter! Also, happy birthday, Lucina! She's one of my favorite characters, just so long as she doesn't pick out any of my clothes for me. I wonder why you never see her wearing octopus dresses.

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**CHAPTER THREE: WISHING**

Was it so wrong to wish? Chrom thought as he sat on a log in a clearing surrounded by forest trees. He'd wandered away from the plain and the gathering to this small wooded area to try to recollect his thoughts. Out here he was just Chrom, not Ylisse's ruler, not general of an army. He sighed. He could wish for so many things. That Emmeryn hadn't died. That his future daughter would have had a better life and the same peaceful future that the young Lucina at the castle would. That his future son would recover all his memories (and finally be able to stop the head-smashing). That innocent lives hadn't been lost.

That Robin hadn't sacrificed herself, and that he had landed the final blow instead.

Was that so terrible a wish? "One life weighed against millions…." Chrom muttered under his breath, watching the stars turn circles in the darkening sky. True, she was but one life, and true, the world would be safer without her, but to _him_ her one life was just as important as those millions. He hung his head and tried to focus on the task ahead of him. As Exalt, he was often involved in formalities he had no talent for navigating, and this would become the bulk of his work as soon as he reached Ylisstol, since the war was finally over. Maybe there _was_ something good about the war—he hadn't needed to practice speeches and such at all in the past two years.

And there. That was another awful, selfish thought. Of course there was nothing good about war. Of course Robin had made the right choice.

Chrom unsheathed Falchion and, without really knowing why or what he meant to do, stuck it into the bark of a nearby tree. The razor-sharp blade slid through easily, making a deep, even slice. Dimly he remembered a conversation he'd had with Robin at a beach in the Outrealms. _ I have a talent for smashing things in frustration. _He closed his eyes and tried to visualize Robin's face as he maneuvered the sword.

"Any more, Father, and you'll cause the forest to collapse," Lucina's voice suddenly said, and the Exalt snapped his eyes open to find his daughter and son standing next to his Falchion, half-smiling, half-somber. Lucina sat down next to him on the log, while Morgan climbed a small tree and sat in one of the branches.

"We realized you left early," Morgan piped up, watching his father sheepishly remove Falchion from the nearby tree.

"What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?"

Morgan grinned. "It's the job of a tactician to be observant. And you're not the most quiet person either, you know."

Chrom re-sheathed Falchion, his memory ringing. "Your mother always made a point of telling me that, yes."

"She's not gone," said Morgan, with fierce conviction. "We _will_ see her again, won't we, Lucina?"

Lucina hesitated.

"Lucina?"

"_How?!_" Chrom burst out, startling them both. His earlier spike of optimism had dwindled to nothing at this point. "Naga said she would almost certainly cease to exist! How is she going to come back? How would that even be possible? Where would we find her? What if she lost all of her memory again?"

"Father, nothing is impossible. We already broke impossibility long ago. Don't you remember?" Lucina replied, smiling a little at the memory. "Khan Basilio is still alive, Validar was defeated, _you're_ still living, and Grima is no more. If those impossible things became possible, then it should be only a matter of waiting until Mother returns."

"Waiting," the Exalt said, mutinously, impatiently, and his two future children were suddenly reminded that their father was much younger in this timeline. He sighed. "I just wish she would come back, now, and see what she fought to protect."

"But she _is_ coming back. You don't have to wish." Morgan clambered down from the tree branch. Chrom watched the boy's movements—tugging at his cloak's hood, carefully closing a strategy book with every dog-ear in place—and involuntarily smiled. Morgan was the spitting image of his mother. And Lucina—she had Robin's strong character and tact. A part of Robin was still here, living on, no matter where she herself was at the moment. Morgan dusted the worn tomes in his arms as he spoke cheerfully. "Our bonds are strong enough. Way, over-the-top, past-maximum-requirement strong enough. You know that, Father. They're so strong, she would never forget us. Finding her should be a cinch. If we can change destiny, I bet we'll stumble across Mother in no time!"

Chrom smiled a little. Morgan's optimism was incredibly infectious. "So, you see?" Lucina said, standing up. "Soon there'll be nothing to wish for."

"Alright." Chrom stood up too, feeling a little bit of his former self return. "Go on and join the celebration. Tomorrow we march for Ylisstol."


	4. Journey

**Author's Note: **Hey, everyone! Here's the next chapter! It's been a pretty busy week...but to compensate, I guess, this one's a little longer than normal. Enjoy!

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**CHAPTER FOUR: JOURNEY**

Despite their leader's advice to get a good night's rest for the next day's march, most of the Shepherds were awake that night, excited and slightly anxious about their return to the capital. Some wondered eagerly what it would be like to be treated as a hero; others thought apprehensively, they didn't know how to act like heroes. Should they shout heroic catchphrases as they wandered the streets? Show off their weapon skills or strike heroic stances? Still others thought about the changes to their lifestyles they'd have to make, and a few decided obstinately that they would _not_ change their ways, dark hexes or thievery or whatever their particular hobby may be. And lastly, some had fits of nightmares, unwilling to let their guard down and smother that subconscious voice that whispered, _Grima isn't dead, tomorrow you'll find it was just a dream, get ready to fight for your life again..._

Whatever the personal reason, most of the Shepherds were up early the next morning, muttering "Couldn't sleep" as a hasty explanation for bloodshot eyes or mussed hair. They packed in jittery haste, rolling up tents and packing up blankets and cushions and cooking utensils from the mess tent. By six in the morning, everyone was ready to go.

Of course, there were a few exceptions.

"Where's Virion?" Frederick demanded, exasperated. The flowery-tongued archer was no where to be seen. "We're marching in ten minutes! Cherche! Where is he this time?"

The great knight's wife shrugged amiably, patting Minerva's back. "Primping, likely. We've gone over this before, love."

"What does that mean, primping? Right before a march? What does he even do to 'primp' anyway - no, never mind, please don't answer that." Frederick reached for his lance and restlessly put it down again. "Where are Stahl and Kellam? And Nowi? And Gerome - where _is_ Gerome, Cherche, I haven't seen him all morning…"

Chrom, half listening to this exchange at the head of the procession, stuck Falchion into the soil impatiently. For some absurd reason, he felt the intense need to hurry back to Ylisstol, though he couldn't figure out why. Morgan was next to him, squinting across the plain. "I don't see Lucina. She was here a moment ago."

"What?" Chrom made an effort to refocus his attention to the present. Stahl was probably eating a late breakfast, Kellam was likely in the crowd - there he was - and Nowi was likely sleeping in, but Lucina...Lucina wasn't the type to be missing before it was time to march. Neither was Gerome, although the wyvern rider was so dark and quiet it was easy to miss him. Gods, did they have to go through this every time? "I just saw her-"

"Sorry!" Lucina reappeared in the middle of the crowd, edging her way to the front, her face uncharacteristically flushed. Gerome had silently materialized next to his parents as well. "Sorry, everyone. I had something last minute to take care of. Are we ready?" She gave her father and brother a convincing smile.

Morgan returned the smile with dry look.

Soon enough the rest of the Shepherds joined the group, and their final journey back to Ylisstol began. The procession was quieter than usual at first, and then a wave of discussion would rise up whenever they passed a familiar landmark. Villagers cheered and waved to the group as it passed by.

Around late afternoon, when they were walking through fields halfway between Regna Ferox and Ylisstol, Morgan suddenly said sharply, "Lucina?"

Chrom stopped abruptly next to her, hand instinctively on Falchion's hilt. Lucina jolted. "Wh-what?"

Morgan grinned. "Nothing. Just checking to see if you're awake and all. Y'know," the boy said, looking up at the cloudless blue sky with a funny face, hands lifted behind his head, "I'm not sure what, but I feel like we're going to be incredibly lucky today."

Chrom shielded his eyes from the sun. Any time Robin had said that, the group had done remarkably better in battle or found some rare object. He always wondered if she really knew or if it was all in their heads. "What makes you say that?"

Morgan shrugged. "I just feel it. Might as well get our spirits up, anyway. Come on, don't you feel like we need to _get_ somewhere? There's luck waiting for us! Hey, Lucina," and here he smirked at his sister, "Maybe _you'll_ be the lucky one today."

Lucina pursed her lips and ignored her brother's teasing. Besides, their father was listening to them closely now. Getting into a fight (or worse, a round of exposing secrets) was not exactly what she would have liked to be doing on a day meant for basking in victory.

To her relief, Morgan let the matter go and instead focused on Chrom, who was now checking the Shepherds' position on a faded map from the barracks. "Father? Can you tell us a story about Mother?"

"Wha?!" Chrom almost dropped the map. He groaned inwardly. By now, he should have been used to Morgan's spontaneity-after all, Robin was fond of saying that one of a tactician's greatest weapons was unpredictability. "No."

"Please?" Lucina chimed in, eyes sparkling mischievously. "Today's a special day. We don't have time for a match now. Why don't you just tell us-"

"No! Not…_that_ story, anyway," their father protested a bit sheepishly. "You don't need to hear that."

"Mother never told me how she met you-"

"Morgan said I'd be lucky...I'd probably win the match today anyway-"

"Of _course_ we need to hear how you-"

"Oh, go on, tell them, Chrom," Lissa's voice said as she slipped to the front to join her brother. "They might as well know."

Chrom glared at her. "You're not helping! And since when were you involved in this conversation?"

"Aunt Lissa's on our side-"

"C'mon, there's just _grass_ out here-"

"We won't use Falchion or tomes to destroy roaches again-"

Lissa laughed. "Ha! I already know _this_ story that you don't want them to hear. You'd better tell them before _I_ do!"

"Alright, alright!" Chrom relented, not wanting to hear Lissa's dramatic point of view, and Lucina and Morgan cheered. "One afternoon we were patrolling an area west of Ylisstol, somewhere near here, when we suddenly came to someone asleep in an empty field..."

As the Ylissean exalt was bombarded with questions, the Shepherds came upon a small, rebuilt village surrounded by a plain of grass. Chrom had a sudden thought as he told his daughter and son a story from what seemed like a lifetime ago: _Something good is going to happen today._


	5. Tell It Twice

_**Author's Note:**_Hi, everyone...So sorry for the late update. You've probably heard this already, at one time or another, from most of the authors you're following, but these past two weeks have also been super busy for me. On the bright side, I've been working on the next chapter after this one, so expect an update sometime this week and another this weekend, provided school doesn't have any more surprises stockpiled up for me. Thanks for all of your support; your follows/favorites/reviews make my day :)

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**CHAPTER FIVE: TELL IT TWICE**

"She was just lying on the ground, dressed in a dark cloak. The grass was pretty tall, like that-" said Lissa, cutting in on Chrom's predictably-less-bubbly retelling. The cleric squinted at the ground. "Actually, EXACTLY like that."

"We weren't really sure what to do," Chrom continued slowly, carefully, trying to hide his mixed embarrassment and wistful emotion at telling this story. Morgan and Lucina would probably want to hear his first "dreamy" thought at seeing Robin, or the first thing he'd said to her, romantic or otherwise...Of _course_ they would, even though all of the Shepherds were not far behind...He watched the horizon. Sunset was approaching quickly. Should they camp, or push on?

Morgan frowned. "Hey! What happened next?"

Chrom gave the boy a stern look. "Don't 'hey' me," the general said in his most commanding voice, only to be met with fits of laughter from his children _and_ his sister. "We sort of stood nearby and waited for her to wake _uhhhp..._" His voice drained away to a whisper and then rose in a shout. "W-wait. What is that?!"

"I don't see what you're talking about," said Lissa, craning her neck to scan their surroundings.

"I don't see anything, either, Father," said Lucina, brow furrowed.

"Continue the story," said Morgan, in an odd tone of voice.

Chrom froze and then took off running.

* * *

Everything was black. Thick, soupy black. She couldn't see anything. Couldn't hear anything.

Had she been here before?

She swam in and out of consciousness, her body completely drained of any energy she tried to summon. At least the darkness was quiet. No, she took that back. Not quiet. Muffled, but not quiet. At least-

"And then, I said-"

That voice! That voice, that voice was familiar, too... Eyes shut, she tried to figure out its owner. Her mind was blank. The voice was closer, until she thought it might be hovering right above her, slicing the air in front of her forehead.

She opened her eyes.

Four faces. Four _familiar_ faces. It was important, really important, _urgently_ important, life-or-death important that she recall them. Her name came to her, and she prodded herself, _Come on, come on, Robin, remember…._

"I see you're awake now," the blue-haired man whispered. Instantly memories began pouring into her brain, the dam broken by those _familiar_ words, memories that made her head ache and her heart burst. Her vision went blurry, and then straightened itself out, and as the man extended his hand one memory reeled in her mind's eye.

_I could never forget a single thing about you. _A single name floated to her tongue.

_Chrom_.

"There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," Chrom said, and the blonde woman next to him - _not delicate…pranks and frogs...Lissa!_ - smiled a sly, knowing smile. "Give me your hand."

Robin allowed herself to be hoisted up, under the intent gazes of her four rescuers, who peered at her with jaws parted, shining eyes, expressions of wonder and disbelief. Her hand tingled.

"Welcome back," Chrom said, his smile growing with every second that passed, "It's over now."

"Funny," the boy next to him said, grinning widely at Robin, watching the memories of her son flood her mind. "I don't think that was part of the first story."

"Of course it wasn't," the blue-haired girl replied, with a hint of mixed curiosity and annoyance. Images of a blue mask, of two Falchions, of dresses and baby clothes and flowers all tumbled into Robin's head as the girl spoke. "You knew something, didn't you?"

Morgan shrugged, the sunny grin still huge on his face. "I _told_ you she would come back. We're all part of the second story now."

Robin felt her head slowly stop spinning, and she stood up a little straighter, feeling as if she were getting out of deep water. The memories settled now, and with them came all of the emotions she'd carried since her last time awakening in this field. She saw her adorkable son, her lovely daughter, her good friend and little sister of a sort, and her beloved husband, and beyond them the faces of the Shepherds, her best friends and precious teammates.

As she lurched forward and impulsively kissed Chrom, not minding how many people were watching or the impropriety of Ylisse's king and queen acting like lovebirds in public, she thought of the story she had planned for herself as she had landed the final blow on Grima. Robin was supposed to have been the death to end all deaths. With that final hit, she indeed ended all deaths Grima would have brought. And yet here she was, with the tables reversed, alive and with the people she loved most.

Morgan was right. Ylisse had a new story to tell.


End file.
